He Needs Some Serious Love

Dear Journal,

You should have seen the way they all looked at me as I walked through the barrier and onto the Platform. It was like they all knew. But how could they have known? I’m pretty sure I covered up all of my marks and flattened out all of my bumps. Or maybe they were all staring at me because of the fact I defeated Voldemort?

I don’t know and I probably never will know.

The train ride was boring as well with Ron and Hermione not being there by my side. They are too busy flirting with each other in another compartment and none of my other so called ‘Friends’ want to hang with me either and it’s all because I’ve finished being their hero and saviour.

I want to tell them, Ron and Hermione that is, to go get stuffed, that they don’t know me and never will. But how can I? All of them, everyone in the universe, expect me to stay friends with the two hypocrites and be all “buddy-buddy” with them. You know what? I’m not going to waste my time on people anymore who don’t give a rats’ arse about me… I’m sick of it… I’m sick of being a no one… a Freak… I don’t think I can deal with much more before I accidentally take my self-harming too far.

I’m scared journal, I really am.

No one will notice if I’m gone anyway, will they? All I’m good for is saving the world and being a punch bag for my cousin and uncle. A servant for my only living relatives. A saviour for those not worth saving at all.

Yet what do I get in return? I get the ones I truly love and care for taken away from me and when I want to grief in the only way I know how, I get told I can’t. Now how’s that fair at all?

Well, I better go have a shower before everyone gets back from dinner. I know what you are thinking, ‘I need to eat more. Glamour’s aren’t going to hide how skinny I am eventually.’ Well, until that day comes, I’m going to keep eating whenever I can actually eat. Even if that means sneaking to the kitchens at midnight, which I’m sure the elves will be all too pleased to help me.

I’ll write another time then (Always feel awkward putting that).

Until next time, Harry James Potter.

A soft sigh escaped Harry’s lips as he slowly closed his journal and placed it in his bed side table along with the quill and ink he was using. Looking around the silent room and sighing once again as he stood up and collected his towel, a fresh pair of underwear and pajama pants before shuffling his exhausted feet to the bathroom.

Harry turned on the taps so they could warm up; he placed all of his belongings on the bench and slowly removed the clothing he had on. The mirror caught his eye and regretfully, he looked upon his scarred and marked body. He had bruises and cuts on almost every area of skin and if it wasn’t fresh, it was old and faint.

He threw one last look of disgust at his reflection before he got into the shower and closed the curtains. At first he just let the hot water stream down his body and the steam clear his mind, but then he started to slowly clean his body, careful to be gentle on the cuts and bruises. After he was clean, Harry rest his forehead against the wall and soaked up the silence and the feeling of hot water he hadn’t felt since his last time at Hogwarts.

Another sigh left his lips as Harry had to reluctantly turn off the water and get dried and dressed. He decided to dry himself without magic, knowing that casting drying spells could sometimes damage the healing time of cuts. He learnt from experiences in the past.

Pulling on his fresh new underwear and pajama pants, Harry threw a weak glamour on to hide the scars on his chest, arms and neck, knowing that he would have to put a shirt on before the glamour wore off. Harry dried his hair with his towel as he walked out into his room, knowing and not hearing anyone come back to the dorms. His chest still dripped slightly from the water that escaped being dried away. Harry placed his dirty clothes away and sat on his bed.

Harry still had his head down as he was drying the back of it, but he froze in his efforts when he heard a shuffling sound and then a soft chuckle from somewhere close by in the room.

Slowly lifting his head, his green eyes met with the stormy grey ones of none other than Draco Malfoy, sitting opposite him on Ron’s bed.

Wait… What was Malfoy doing in my dorm room?

Malfoy chuckled as he seemed to soak in the confused look on Harry’s face. Harry suddenly felt very self-conscious of the fact that he had no t-shirt on and scrambled to his trunk to throw on a tank top. Once his chest was covered and the towel was hung back around his neck, Harry crossed his arms tiredly and leaned against his bedpost.

“I’m too tired for this shit, Malfoy,” sighed Harry, watching Malfoy carefully. “Just say your piece and then kindly piss off.”

“I know what you’ve been doing to yourself, Harry,” Malfoy said as he slowly stood from the bed he had been sitting on. “I know what your relatives do to you. I know how you are feeling right now and I know what you are thinking right now.”

Harry’s eyes widened dramatically as Malfoy raised his wand and swished it in a small circle. Flinching and closing his eyes, Harry felt the tingles wash over his skin and he knew, from doing it to himself so many times, that Malfoy had just taken away his glamour. That meant that he was now standing in front of his mortal enemy, exposing all of his scars, bruises and cuts.

Filled with shame and a sense of loneliness, Harry broke down and dropped to his knees, sobbing into his hands. Quiet footsteps made their way over towards him and the next thing he knew, a carefully placed hand started rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“How?” choked out Harry through his sobs.

“Your friend, Ronald,” Malfoy started, which made Harry stop sobbing and snap his head around to try and detect the lie Malfoy was speaking, “he gave me a journal and said that whenever you would write in your own journal, I would have my own copy of it. He wanted me to find something to embarrass you with so he could stop being your friend. I’m so sorry, Harry. I want to punch everyone and take you away to a safe place; a place where no one will ever hurt your feelings or ever make fun of who you are again. Please let me do that,” Malfoy looked deep into the emerald eyes and allowed a small smile grace his pale face as Harry gave a small nod of his own.

Unbelieving of what he had just heard, Harry pushed away from Malfoy and started throwing all of his stuff he had in his draws - which he had placed in there just before writing his latest journal entry - into his trunk.

Malfoy got up and stood at the door, knowing that Harry would follow him to a safe place. Harry shrunk his trunk and placed it in his pyjama pocket before reaching under his bed and grabbing his invisibility cloak, throwing it over his body, walk over to Malfoy and touch his shoulder to let him know that he was ready to go.

“Stay close,” Malfoy whispered over his shoulder. “Especially when we get to the dungeons, who knows who’s lurking around down there right now.”

The journey down to the dungeons was a quiet affair where neither of the young men spoke, nor did they run into anyone on their way. Once they started descending the stairs, Malfoy stopped briefly and reached out his hand for Harry to grab, which he did so cautiously.

“I’m going to take you to my Godfather’s room so we can decide what will happen. Be prepared to stay there tonight or for a few nights,” whispered Malfoy, taking the cloak off of Harry and passing it to him before he turned and, Harry’s hand still in his hold, started his way down the stairs again before reaching a corridor. He led Harry through the many corridors of the dungeon and made sure that the whole time Harry was okay and keeping up.

Finally after making their way through the twisting corridors, Malfoy came to a stop outside of a portrait of Salazar Slytherin.

“What are you doing here, Draco?” Salazar inquired sleepily, he had not seen students since the last day of the school year and he had enjoyed the quiet. “Also who is that with you?”

“I am here to speak with Sev and I brought Harry Potter with me. Just go tell Sev that I’m here regarding a very important issue,” impatiently spoke Malfoy, his grip on Harry’s hand tightened for a second before relaxing.

“Just wait here, you feisty little dragon,” chuckled Salazar before disappearing from his portrait.

Malfoy turned to look at Harry and rolled his eyes, explaining how fond of Salazar he was and that they had such a good relationship that they shared many inside jokes. But before Malfoy could explain much else, Salazar had returned and nodded just as his portrait popped open, granting them entrance into the private chambers.

“Sev? Are you here yet?” Malfoy called out as he shut the portrait behind Harry. After getting no response, Malfoy shrugged and pulled Harry over to the couch by his hand. “Would you like anything to eat or drink?”

Harry shrugged and asked in a quiet voice for a cup of tea. He sat down in the middle of the couch and leaned back, relaxing and letting the sound of the fire crackling and popping in the background. Malfoy sat down next to him and order a cup of tea and a cup of coffee from a house elf. Once the tea’s appeared, the boy’s sipped on their beverages in silence.

“So you are aware that Sev will be made aware of this situation and that he must have a look through the journal?” questioned Malfoy, placing his coffee on the little coffee table to the side of the couch.

“Yes, I figured that much out myself,” shot back Harry, irritated at being thought of as dumb.

“Okay,” Malfoy held his hands up defensively and chuckled, finding it amusing that Harry has quick mood swings.

“Sorry, I’m uncomfortable right now and I can’t control my feelings and emotions as well as when I was younger,” explained Harry, embarrassed at his outburst.

“Like I said,” Malfoy reached over and placed his hand on Harry’s knee, “it’s okay. I would be acting the same way if I was in your boat.”

Harry nodded and kept his eyes glued to the carpet in front of him which made the perfect excuse for his hair to hide the blush that rose in his cheeks when Malfoy touched his knee. Lifting his cup to his lips, he took a long sip as he glanced at Malfoy out of the corner of his eye and saw that the boy was looking intensely at him.

But their moment was ruined when the portrait opened and the one and only Severus Snape entered his private quarters, well it was meant to be private. But he found two teenagers- no, young men- sitting on his couch. He walked over to them and sat in his chair that was his, and anyone who sat in it would be damned.

Snape lifted an eyebrow and gestured for one of them to explain what was going on. He noticed the hand placed on the Potters’ spawns leg and decided to save that for another time.

“You know how Harry is going through a tough time and I wouldn’t explain why?” Malfoy questioned, removing his hand and straightening his back up, Snape nodded and gestured again for him to go on. “Well, I’m afraid he won’t be alive for much longer if he doesn’t get the help he needs.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Snape questioned.

“What I am asking of you, is to let Harry stay here instead of being bullied by the Gryffindor’s. I also ask for him to get some professional help from a medi-wizard about his unhealthy state of mind,” Malfoy said, authority clear in his voice.

Snape nodded and agreed to what he was being asked to do. He would let the boy stay here for now and in the morning would take this issue up with Headmaster Dumbledore, even though he was still weak from almost dying before the war ended. It’s a long story and would have to be explained another time, just like the fact why he is still alive.

“Since you missed dinner, both of you, you will eat before you, Dragon, have to go back and you, Potter, can get ready for bed,” Snape order, already getting up and setting up the table in preparation of the house elves placing food at the table.

Malfoy and Harry both took their half full cups over to the table and sat down next to each other. Snape sat down opposite Malfoy and drummed his fingers on the table, waiting for the food to appear.

The food arrived and Malfoy dug in while Harry hesitated to put food on his plate. But knowing that Malfoy and Snape would snap at him to eat more, Harry piled on as much as he thought he could handle right then and there.

Snape started talking with Malfoy during the meal which left Harry to sit in silence, tuning the two out as talk turned over to potions. As Harry ate, he couldn’t help but glance over at Malfoy, watching as the young man smiled, not smirked, as he talked passionately about the subject. Harry thought that the smile suited him very well, much better than the sneer or smug smirk he usually wore whenever in Harry’s presence.

That thought made a knot and random feelings of butterflies floating around in his stomach appear. Harry stared down at his plate with food still on it, feeling slightly sick. He shouldn’t be feeling this way about another person of the same sex. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had taught him many lessons when he was younger when he had dated for a brief time a boy in the neighbourhood during a summer holiday.

Harry pushed away from the table, tears surfacing in his eyes and he ran out of the portrait hole, running into the wall opposite, leaning over and emptying his stomachs content. A hand appeared on his back as he dried heaved once all of the food he had just eaten was dumped back out onto the floor.

“Harry?” Malfoy’s voice whispered from somewhere back near the door. Harry turned his head and saw Snape standing next to him and a very concerned Malfoy at the portrait.

Wiping his mouth and using a non-verbal and wandless charm to wash the putrid taste out of his mouth, he leaned back against the wall and slid down it, careful not to sit in the puke on the floor. Snape banished said puke and crouched down in front of the young, shaking, tear-faced man.

“Harry? Are you okay?” Snape asked, sweeping some hair out of Harry’s face and tucking it behind his ears.

“No, I’m really not,” shakily whispered Harry. “I just want to die. I’m a disgrace to everyone I know and a failure to everyone I try to impress. I just want to be left alone, to grieve for the loss of the people I loved most, yet I can’t even do that simple thing without being scolded or interrupted or, just, leave me alone. Alright?”

Harry said all of that to Malfoy, not once moving his gaze away. Snape glanced back at Malfoy and saw tears start to form, knowing that this situation was just getting worse every second, Snape used his magic to close and lock Malfoy inside of his chamber while leaving him and Harry out to talk things through.

“Please talk to me, Harry,” Severus pleaded, moving to sit next to the crying young man. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“I’m gay,” Harry said, afraid of what was going to happen next.

“And?” Snape asked, wondering if he was going to elaborate on why he had just said that. “What about it?”

“All my life, I would get beat for even looking at boys in any other way that wasn’t friendship. I almost died when I had my first boyfriend. My relatives almost killed me. Once I was finally able to move, I ran away and went to my boyfriend’s place. He wasn’t home, but his parents were. My relatives were arrested and I stayed with my boyfriend’s family from then on. Well, until my relatives were let off the hook and they took me away.

“They continued to starve and torture me until I broke up with him. Once I did, it got better, but it was still bad,” Harry explained, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I’m afraid of my feelings towards Malfoy. He obviously seems to care for me and I’ve noticed the way he looks at me. Now I’m not sure if that’s because he knows about all of the abuse and what I do to myself or if it’s because he actually has the same type of feelings for me,” Harry sobbed into his hands.

Snape rubbed Harry’s arms and helped soothe the young man with words of comfort. Once Harry had finally calmed down and was only sniffling, Snape stopped rubbing his arm and decided to tell him. He knew that Malfoy was definitely going to kill him.

“Look, Harry,” Snape started carefully. “I know this will probably help you. Draco, he does like you, he likes you the same way you like him. He knows what it’s like, what you went through at home. Hell, when that happened to him, I took him away and he never, ever went back to his parent’s. Give him a chance, embrace it because I don’t know if you can ever replace someone as caring as him.”

“Why? Why are you treating me so nice after all these years?” Harry whispered after a few minutes of silence.

“I’ve read a few of those pages already. I have read more recent ones, but I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you in the past.” Snape whispered back. “Also, it would be best if you call me Severus and ‘Malfoy’ by his first name, Draco, while you stay with me tonight, it will make things less awkward. But only in private may you call me that.”

“Okay, S-Severus,” Harry tested the name out, nodding his understanding.

“Alright, let’s get you inside. I’m sure Draco is worried about you,” Severus said as he stood up and helped the young man to his feet.

Sure enough, when they opened the door and Harry stepped inside, he was attacked with a hug by Draco, the boy sobbing countless sorry’s into his shoulder. Harry hugged him back and whispered his own sorry. Severus broke the two apart and they went over to the couch, Severus to his chair. Draco pulled Harry over so they were sitting super close to each other, hands laced together. Harry closed his eyes and rested his head on Draco’s shoulder, slowly fall asleep, feeling safe and secure with Draco by his side.

As Harry slept, Draco and Severus discussed what was to happen. Draco learnt of the conversation outside and smiled lovingly down at Harry, swearing to protect his Lion from any further danger. He swore to help his Lion know what love is and how he should rightfully be treated in a relationship.